


The Light in Me Will Guide You Home

by Kawau



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Horror, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawau/pseuds/Kawau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You should eat that, you know," says Terezi. Rose makes a face at her toast. "When was the last time you ate?"</p>
<p>"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me," says Rose, poking her toast. "Human law. Look it up."</p>
<p>Terezi watches her. Now that Rose thinks about it, hasn't Terezi always been watching her? Her glasses are often trained on Rose - not judging, just interested. Just gathering data. Now those eyes seem knowing - sympathetic, even.</p>
<p>Rose sits there watching Terezi and finds the words she can't say to anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liam/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "Rose/Terezi pale comfort time, because being a Seer is hard, and there might be one other person who kind of understands." I just added a dash of horrorterrors to the mix.
> 
> The second chapter is a link to the accompanying fanmix.

# The Light in Me Will Guide You Home

  


>   
>  The answers are out there in the drowning deep  
>  [...]  
>  The light in me will guide you home  
>  All I want is to be your harbour  
> 

**-Vienna Teng, _'Harbor'_**

Some days she feels as if there is promise; if they can just keep going, there's hope in their quest. Those days are rare, now. Most days she feels the true hopelessness of their mission and feels endlessly, gut-wrenchingly trapped on this tiny ragged rock, hurtling through space. On those days the blackness they're drowning in is endlessly, needlessly, yawning, and, above all, pitiless and cold.

Perhaps it's just that the Light is singing to her slightly better on these days. The enormity of the abyss engulfing them, the endless sea of bitter possibilities that end in failure, are unchartably huge. Against the blackness of this despair there is a tiny handful of paths that may work, that shine golden with the mocking promise of "Hey, do this, and you might not die!". The ratio of certain death to _maybe not completely_ certain death is so huge she can barely comprehend it. Rose wakes up every morning with these few gossamer pathways etched into her eyelids and tries not to cry; tries not to scream until her throat is raw. Instead she just lets out a ragged breath and swipes her hand roughly over her face, fingertips catching the bruises under her eyes. She stares dully at her metal walls, barely seeing her meteor room with its lilac pillows fighting a losing battle to brighten up the endless steel. Those futures are calling to her, but she can't see what they need to do to get there. She can't see what they need to do. Her sight is failing her. Clarity is fading. If she can't don't this, they are all going to die. 

Some days, there is nothing, just the agony of pounding temples, a sick feeling in every bone of her body, and a truly horrible taste at the back of her throat. She drank herself into a stupor once, to stop the futile glimmering of Light. All she had to show for it was a splitting headache and the bleary glare of light far, far brighter than usual. It only dulled the whisperings of luck and future a little. But that made it worth it. Only then she couldn't stop.

Rose tries to talk to Dave. She sits there watching him and the words die in her throat. She can't voice it; she still loves him, but he can't help her any more. Not with this. She doesn't want him to see how low she has sunk. Dave, after the requisite taunting, would provide silence (good) but also some observations which might be a little too close to the truth. She misses John and Jade so much it is a physical pain, a fist-sized knot under her sternum, but knows she couldn't talk to them either, even if they were here. John, she's sure, would be full of understanding, and sympathy, and enthusiastic encouragement. Jade would look at her with sad eyes, not wanting to believe it, and then make suggestions, most of which would be terrible, but some of which might actually work; or, a change of tack: Jade would try to distract her. That simply wouldn't do.

As for Kanaya, Rose only wants to show her her best self. That's becoming increasingly harder as she keeps running into Kanaya only after drinking slightly too much gin. But surely everyone's girlfriend has seen them fall down stairs? Or pass out after staring at the wall and muttering about doomed timelines for half an hour? Surely that's a normal thing for a romantic partner to witness. She definitely can't add "complete inability to use her god tier powers, thereby dooming the rest of troll and human civilisation" to that list. Even lovely, competent Kanaya wouldn't understand that. Rose digs her fingers into the metal edge of her bedframe until her fingers go pale. No, that isn't an option either.

And she can't get the chanting out of her head.

One day she's in the kitchen, staring blankly at the toast she made on autopilot. It could be a Tuesday, it could be August; she has no idea anymore. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the muted white flare on the floor from a door opening, letting in the corridor light. The glow is blocked by a figure. She looks up; it's Terezi. Terezi, walking as smoothly and neatly as ever to the counter, fishing a mug - red, of course; she always goes straight for the red one - out of the cabinet and squirting a generous measure of oily grub coffee into it. Rose watches the colours dance in swirls on the glossy surface of the liquid, vaguely repulsed. Terezi takes a sip, then hops up to sit on the countertop, swivelling to face Rose.

"You should eat that, you know," says Terezi. Rose makes a face at her toast. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me," says Rose, poking her toast. "Human law. Look it up."

Terezi watches her. Now that Rose thinks about it, hasn't Terezi always been watching her? Her glasses are often trained on Rose - not judging, just interested. Just gathering data. Now those eyes seem knowing - sympathetic, even.

Rose sits there watching Terezi and finds the words she can't say to anyone else:

"Don't make me ask what's wrong," says Terezi, gently, for her.

"I'm scared, Terezi. We're going to our deaths and I have no idea how to stop it." She fists her hands in her lap, the orange god hood soft against her fingers.

Terezi doesn't laugh, or berate her. She just asks calmly, "Are your Seer powers working?"

"Yes, but...dim." It hurts to say. "Obscured. We've been on this meteor so long with no change."

Terezi nods at this, tilting her head slightly to one side.

Rose continues, "I used to be able to see our options fork ahead of us, and it was clear in most cases what we needed to do. But now we're stuck here, and all our choices have been whittled to nearly nothing - tiny sluggish adjustments that are essentially worthless, because we're still trapped here, and can't really change our outcome in any meaningful way. The valid pathways that I can see are dwindling, and even what I can see is at a fraction of its former strength."

She breathes out, forcing stale meteor air from her lungs. "I can't see what to do. I keep seeing scenarios that end in death. I don't know what to say to anyone. I think... I think I'm a failure of a Seer."

There it is. There's why she feels like her bright clothes mock her when she pulls them on in the morning. She looks down at her chest, at the blaze of the proud Light sun. Maybe at first she felt worthy of it. Not anymore. She doesn't say, _I hear wet chanting in black tongues in my sleep_. She doesn't say, _I hear thick dripping_. Not least because she isn't quite sure that makes sense.

Terezi sits bolt upright. "Nonsense!" she snaps, "You are a great Seer! You've hit a rough patch. But I know you can get through this." Her gaze bores into Rose. "Rose, you are talented. Ludicrously so! You may be a pompous windbag sometimes,-" Rose laughs a little despite herself, remembering the girl who started this game, "-but you're a great Light player," Terezi continues, "And have been responsible for keeping us all alive. I know you will continue to do so!"

Terezi slurps her coffee, eyes steady on Rose's over the rim of her mug. Rose feels a little better despite herself.

"Look, this sucks. We're all pretending it doesn't, but it totally does. We're running for our lives in this game, trying something no one's ever tried before. Yes, it's hard. Everyone's scared, and hiding it behind façades," here Terezi smiles sadly, "Which are, quite frankly, shoddy.".

Rose looks at her then, really looks at her. If she thought her own eyes had bags under them, she has nothing on Terezi's. Huge thumbprints of shadow lurk in the hollows above her cheekbones. Looking at her, Rose remembers how she used to laugh, how her hyaena cackle made Rose grin. Looking at her now, with shoulders she is trying to hold as stiff as usual but that can't quite make it, Rose wants to make her laugh again, wants to restore the fire that used to fill that sharp frame.

Rose gets up and goes over to lean against the counter next to Terezi.

"How are you bearing up?" Rose asks, not sure if she'll offend Terezi by doing so. There's a moment of silence, where Rose is sure she's put her foot in it. But does she really care if she has? ...No. No, she doesn't. Terezi's looking out for her, and the others too, but who's looking out for Terezi? Terezi exhales gustily and looks away, shoulders bowing a little more. _Bullseye_ , thinks Rose, and then, _Please talk to me. I'm here for you._

Terezi's mouth twists bitterly. "I miss everyone. I miss Sollux. I miss Nepeta. I even miss stupid Vriska. I don't know what I'm doing, either, though it's a point of pride to fool everyone that I do! My powers are fuzzy sometimes, and now there's no chance I can ever go god tier. I've peaked, certainly as far as my usefulness goes." She sighs. "And... I've seen Gamzee." A full-body shudder grips her then, juddering from her shoulders down to her joints. Her mouth quirks downwards, then she bares her teeth. The troll enamel flashes bright in threatening points. Rose knows in her gut that grimace bodes ill for the clown skulking in the darkness, in corridors just out of their reach.

"I miss when I knew what I was doing and had a purpose," Terezi says sorrowfully. "Now I just don't feel like I can do anything. What am I even doing here?"

"We can do this," Rose says, feeling laughably insufficient. "I believe in you, in your Mind abilities. You're the sharpest troll I've ever met. You run rings around the rest of us. We can work this out." As pep talks go, it's a hilariously impotent one. Rose runs her fingers through her hair, feeling useless. Terezi pats the hand near her that Rose has rested on the countertop.

"Thanks," says Terezi. "Good talk." Her voice is wry, but warm. She hops off the counter and leaves, flicking her fingers at Rose in a little wave as she goes. Rose blinks. The kitchen suddenly seems much larger and colder, the click of the door closing behind Terezi echoing around her in the harsh light.

*******

That night the guttural bubbling is still there, but she sees the pathways of luck stronger than she has in a long time. They spark brighter. Some of them have extra branches. When she wakes, she curls in on herself and cries and cries, sobbing like she's choking on molasses. 

*******

The next day Rose tries to busy herself. She can't read her grimiores, as their pages hold stark woodblock reminders of creatures she already hears in her head every night. She drops by to see Karkat, but when he looks at her and opens his mouth, concerned, she can see his words ("Rose, are you okay? Are you sleeping?") floating above his head before he even utters them. She flees. She tries to knit, but her hands are shaking too badly, and the yarn tangles away from her, refusing to obey. She helps Dave move some of his equipment around, even plays a sample on the violin for his latest track. He looks at her, trying to be impassive through his shades. She can tell he's worried, but he doesn't ask. (Repressed, her old self, too fond of thick textbooks and amateur psychoanalysis, whispers. Or too afraid of the answer.) She smiles, trying to convey confidence she doesn't feel. It feels fake, the smile just about ready to flake right off her face, and float away into the air. Luckily Dave doesn't press. She leaves. 

Next she tries the garden they set up to remind them of Jade in her absence. She digs her hands into the earth for Jade - at least when her hands are wedged in the thick soil of the pots, they don't shake. While weeding and remembering the colours of the sky, remembering birds, she observes the tiny slender curls as the plants unfurl into their new spacebound existence. She touches the tiny leaves gently, feeling their veins under her fingertips, and finds she likes it. Her hands steadier, she drops by Kanaya's makeshift dressmaking studio and plaits the long hair of some of the mannequins, doing her best to ignore the fact that a few strands occasionally catch the light and glimmer, so that there are a few lines of gold twining their way through the thick springy blackness. The Light dances in her eyelashes like glitter mascara. Rose does her best to ignore that too. She has dinner with Kanaya; can barely follow what she says; watches her pale throat and dark lips move without hearing the words; drinks too much wine. Falls into bed.

Again, when sleep comes, it brings echoing blackness and screeds upon screeds of dark grey pathways - spools of tangled yarn that fizzle out as they encounter oblivion and failure, over and over again. A few are golden and keep shining, doing their best to haunt her with their reedy amber glow. This time, though, the darkness they scrawl through seems wet, somehow. She smells salt and hears dripping. And she thinks she hears a thick, guttural whisper. Even worse, she thinks it makes sense: _Let us help,_ the horrorterrors rasp. _Let us in. We can show you. Oh Rose, oh little bony tissue mass, give us your eyes._ Something moves in the void. She jerks awake, shuddering, feeling suckers on her skin. She gets up to make herself a cup of tea. She's not going back into that flickering blackness tonight. 

That's where Terezi finds her. "Can't sleep either, Miss Tangerine?"

Rose shakes her head, cradling a cup of peppermint tea on the squashiest of the sofas.

Terezi sits down next to her, and tucks herself into Rose's side, with her head on Rose's shoulder. She twitches herself so that her horn doesn't stab Rose in the collarbone, fitting neatly into the curve of Rose's waist. Rose can't bring herself to mind, though this is the most physical contact she's had in weeks. It's nice, actually. Feeling Terezi breathe against her makes her calmer, somehow. "Is it just me, or was your day just as shit as mine," mumbles Terezi into Rose's collarbone. "Just kidding! I know your day couldn't _possibly_ be as shit as mine."

Rose looks, down at her, worried. Terezi's cheeks are getting gaunt. "What happened?"

Terezi just grunts, and doesn't answer.

Rose sighs. "Well, I have a riddle for you. Two, actually. You strike me as the type to revel in mental challenges." 

Terezi shifts a little against her side. "I am," she admits.

"All right. Number one: Why do my Light powers keep flashing in front of my eyes when there's nothing I can do about it? Can the game taunt us with our powers like this?"

Terezi stills; breathes for a little while. Then she lick her lips. "That's why you've been drinking, isn't it."

Rose sighs. "Yes."

"Hmm," says Terezi, tapping a claw against her lip in thought. "Maybe seeing your power constantly is a god tier thing? I get flashes of inspiration or nagging feelings, but nothing constant."

"Can I turn it off?"

"No idea."

Rose offers her a sip of peppermint tea. She tries it and pronounces it "disgusting", elbowing Rose lightly in the ribs and demanding the next riddle.

"Number two:" says Rose, feeling ill, "Why do the horrorterrors talk to me in my sleep?"

Terezi straightens, staring at her. "What?"

"I hadn't heard them since I went grimdark," Rose says, "But now they're back."

Terezi says nothing, just stares at her. Then: "This is bad."

"Unfortunately, yes. They want to take me again."

"Why?"

"Maybe now that I'm a fully-fledged Seer, I'm even more valuable to them than I was. They're insidious. I don't know how much longer I can resist them."

"Rose," says Terezi urgently, gripping her shoulder, "Rose, you have to. Don't listen to them. You have to fight them off. What was it Dave said... Don't let the bastards grind you down?"

Rose smiles weakly. "Yes, that'd be it."

Terezi taps her claw tip to her lip again. "I would have liked to ask Feferi about this. She was good at talking to sinister slippery things." She exhales gustily. "As riddles go, those were pretty crappy ones. Atrocious, even! You should be ashamed of yourself. But I forgive you." She flops against Rose again.

"I miss when this was just a game," says Rose, feeling old, like all her cartilage is glass.

"Tell me about your land," says Terezi. Rose closes her eyes and falls back into LOLAR, tells Terezi about the limoncello sky, the candyfloss clouds, the purifying dry heat. She tells Terezi about her turtles. She tells her about how the snow crunched underfoot, about how she felt so small but so huge at the same time. She tells her about the roaring of the rain, the pearly shimmer of the water, about how curtains of it would dance across the plains just for her. Then she asks Terezi about hers, and Terezi tips her head back and closes her eyes. She tells Rose about a planet with a green-blue, roiling sky, about feeling her lusus sprite nuzzle her cheek and feeling her scales again, how that made her think of home. Rose watches her as she talks, her tea forgotten until it is well and truly cold.

*******

Over the next week of inky, writhing dreams, talking with Terezi helps a little. Rose reserves her few smiles for her. After each session of friendly verbal fencing, her dreams come stronger. The lucky trails flicker a little brighter, but they're still swamped by failure. Rose's fingers still feel numb and cold and a little wrinkled, as if she's been soaking them in water. She can barely think straight. When Terezi brings up the Eldritch gods, Rose shudders and changes the subject. She's in too deep now.

*******

It is yet another night of sibilant gurglings. Rose sees a few more quavering fortune-roots go dark, and just - snaps. Gives in. If you know you're drowning, you may as well open your mouth. The horrorterrors scream and laugh, chittering horribly, as they roil before her. Rose sets her chin. When making a hopeless bargain for the second time, style counts. They will not see her quail.

_You called?_ she asks the monstrosities. 

_Yes, little nerve cluster, we did,_ they chant. _Give us your eyes. Let us taste fortune. We can see for you. Let us lead you out_.

_You will move this rock, and everyone on it, to the edge of this slice of space you infest,_ says Rose. It's difficult to stay firm when there are too many eyes to make eye contact with. _Then you will let us go_. 

_Of course, of course, little Rose,_ they howl, _We can do all that and more. Let us twitch your tendons for you. Let us in_. 

_It is a bargain, then_. 

Then all Rose hears is roaring, and all she sees is a maelstrom of malevolent tentacles and eyes. Sickening laughter booms around her from too many tongues as she drops into the inky blackness. 

*******

It happens as they are walking down a corridor to the living area. Rose makes a soft noise, and raises a hand to her mouth. 

Dave looks back at her just as she takes her hand away. On her fingers is a smudge of liquid that, even in this dimly lit corridor, is too dark to be red. She gurgles slightly, and trails of oily blackness come dribbling out of her nose and bead at the corners of her mouth. 

“...Rose?” Horror is creeping into his tone. 

“ _G’br’frythryl_ ” says Rose, and keels over. 

Suddenly, in this dusty corridor, Rose smells like tar. Tar, and a sunblasted salt plain, crackling with evaporation and relentless dry heat. She smells like ink-dark winter midnight and noon on a midsummer’s day. She is curled in on herself, eyes shut tight, hands pressed against her chest and fisted in her Seer robe. Desperation in every line of her body, Kanaya shakes Rose's shoulder. It does nothing. Mirages shimmer in golden bubbles from her eyelashes and drift upwards on the guttural whispers of wretched tongues that are suddenly echoing from the shadowy corridors around them. 

“Run,” whispers Kanaya, looking up at them with stricken eyes. 

Nobody moves. 

Rose uncoils, then, quicker than a snake. She opens her eyes, and jerks her head upwards, and with an almost audible fwoomph, tentacles and searing brightness uncurl from her like an inkblot unfurling in water. Rose’s back arches fiercely, and her ribcage glows through her god hood. She screams, a thousand rusty voices keening with her, and the roar thunders through all their heads, juddering their viscera like jelly. 

Last time it was ribbons upon suckered ribbons of oozing blackness. This time the horrorterrors have seen the light. Her smudged-charcoal skin is the same. Her wide, blank gaze is the same. But this time, the tentacles smoking from Rose’s hem and rippling upwards from every inch of her skin are made of light; golden light, translucent and glowing, with merely an echo of ink outlining them. 

_This wasn't supposed to happen_ , thinks Terezi desperately, sweat turning to ice on her skin. _I thought I was getting through to her_ \- 

“Rose,” says Karkat wretchedly, holding his hands out towards her beseechingly. 

He takes a trembling step forward, and almost looks as if he’s trying to shoosh her; Terezi can barely believe it. The curse-gargling form that used to be Rose looks at Karkat like so much meat and soon-to-be-dribbling offal. Seeing the predator in that bone-white glare is as awful as looking too long at the honeyed smoke tentacles, their fat edges of flickering nothingness sucking at her eyes, an endless void. 

“Please, Rose,” 

Not-Rose-anymore grins an awful grin at Karkat, freezing him on the spot. His throat works desperately as he swallows. 

“...Rose?” 

She lashes out. Supple lightning tendrils twist and whiplash, the velvety smudge around them somehow deeper than space itself. Karkat dances backwards just in time. The bright tendrils scythe a hair's breadth from his ankles and lick hungrily at Karkat's shadow as he jerks away. 

Dave starts towards Rose, Caledfwych clutched suddenly in his fist. But before he can do anything, Terezi’s cane thuds into the wall, scant centimetres from Rose’s throat. The dragon head vibrates with a soft _dwangg-ng-ng_. Not-Rose looks up and fixes her baleful gaze on her, glowing hands fisted at her sides. The bloodblack chanting swells and booms, crashing over them, clawing at each nerve ending. Terezi steps forward again, in front of Dave. 

“Just try me, Rose.” 

Not-Rose glares for a second with agony-bleached eyes, snarling with wrath not her own. Terezi’s knuckles whiten. Then the glowing monster whips around and whirls around the corner, syrupy tentacles hitting the wall and splattering upwards in an angry tangle, coating the dull panels with shiny black sludge. It drips down, hissing, and Terezi can smell oilslicks and carcinogens; can hear deadly whispers in its patter onto the ground. Her heart hammers out a wardrum beat and she can barely breathe, staring at the trickle Rose’s power has left. 

They all stand there, hearts in their throats, weapons in their hands. The corridor is silent but for their frantic breaths. Then Dave unsticks his lips, licks them nervously, and says, in a voice striving for calm and falling squarely into wobbly: 

“What the fuck do we do with a grimdark _Seer of Light_.” 

Terezi yanks her cane sword out of the wall. "Follow her," she says, her world crisp and purposeful at last, and runs. 

*******

Dimly Rose feels Dave's presence like a flickering scrap of red crepe paper. He flutters against the edges of her consciousness, crying words like "I know you're in there, Lalonde!" and "Stop!" and the even more futile "Please!". She barely registers this, and his words are shredded by tarry fire. Only one thing stands out in the crackling, writhing chaos in her head: the smooth turquoise stone of Terezi's consciousness, strong and stubborn, unyielding. She follows Rose from room to room, and laughs in her face when the horrorterrors curse her, saying words that make Rose bleed to utter. Glowing ooze and foul cephalopodic gristle crash against her and break away to either side, a river of malevolence parting to rush around a boulder. Terezi continues towards her, and as this determined consciousness advances, Rose starts to hear her. 

_Seer! You there, with the obscene love of encyclopaedias_! 

Rose can only howl. 

_I'm coming for you. They will not take you_! 

_Tiny cluster of bones, leave us_ , shrill the gods bubbling under Rose's skin. _Take your useless collection of organs elsewhere. We have who we need_. 

Their awful voices and power whip against Terezi. She buckles slightly, almost falling to her knees. Her neck stays poised though, her gaze direct and strong. The part of Rose that still exists, trapped in a basal bit of brainstem, could weep, she's so proud of her. Terezi struggles upright again. _But you shall not keep her. Move aside, you lumps of mantle tissue._. 

They laugh, the echoes sickening. _Make us, you offal platter. You are a watery spark of a Seer. She is a bonfire. We have her. What exactly do you propose to do_? 

_Kick your ass_ , snarls Terezi, and swings her sword forward. Rose's world is obliterated by a flare of pale green Mind fire. 

*******

In a smoking mess of a room, Rose comes to. She blinks, and remembers what it's like to see through eyes with pupils. She coughs, and remembers what it's like to speak with a mouth with only one tongue. She feels autoclaved, seared clean from the inside out. The room blurs, then slowly solidifies, sliding into focus. Everything is smoking. Something dark and oily is dripping from a wall. It smells like hot metal and smouldering ink. 

She casts around herself and sees a crumpled form in the corner. Terezi. _**Terezi**_. Rose forces her way over, scrambling on hands and knees in the wreckage since she doesn't quite trust her legs yet. This is faster. She needs to see her. She calls Terezi's name over and over as she stumbles over to her. Terezi is lying on one side, limbs every which way, chest moving slightly. Her clothes are scorched and ripped. One of the lenses of Terezi's glasses has smashed, glittering ruby shards scattered around her like confetti. There's teal liquid trickling from under Terezi's glasses - Rose can't tell if it's blood or tears. 

Terezi stirs enough to say "Rose?" There's metal dust in her hair. What skin Rose can see is a patchwork of dark teal bruises. 

"Are you okay?" Rose asks, heart in her throat. She touches Terezi's face softly, like a prayer, running her fingers across one cheekbone and down the sharp, lovely edge of Terezi's jaw. It _is_ a prayer, of sorts. Terezi has to be okay. Rose will shake to pieces if she isn't. Even now, kneeling in this blasted wreck of a room with thick ribbons of smoke dissolving from the walls and strips of iridescent sucker marks everywhere, the weight and warmth of Terezi and her bony joints cradled in Rose's arms is the only thing Rose cares about. Terezi breathing is the only thing that matters. 

"Of course I am, idiot," rasps Terezi fondly, reaching up with quavering fingers to Rose's hand where it rests on her own face. Terezi smiles up at her. Then she passes out. 

Rose hefts Terezi up as gently as she can in a fireman's lift, and the fact that she can feel the rise and fall of Terezi's ribcage against her shoulderblades and knows she's still breathing is the only thing anchoring her and stopping her from doing a truly majestic pirouette off the handle. 

She staggers out of the room. There is a surge forwards and a riot of colour - Dave, everyone - they're all starting towards her, mouths open. She snarls at them, something about being fine and needing distance. They protest, but once they can see she's human and whole, they let her through. She feels a hand that feels like Kanaya's on her shoulder as she passes. Kanaya doesn't push, and for that she's grateful. "Look," she rasps, feeling bad, but also feeling like her throat is made of sandpaper and cuttlebone and at least half full of blood, "We'll be fine, the horrorterrors are gone, I just - need some time -" and then she staggers out the door and is gone. There's only one option for her, and it's outlined thickly in gold, and right through that door. 

*******

She still doesn't know how she got to Terezi's rooms. She vaguely remembers using Terezi's cane, the sword tip biting into the steel floor with each step. She remembers about a corridors' worth of slow, painful steps, timing each step with an exhale from Terezi. Then the rest is a blur until she's standing in Terezi's living area. She lets herself into the respiteblock, gently lies Terezi down, and stares at the recuperacoon, sopor thick and glistening and violently lime-coloured. She's fairly sure it's safe. Dave claims it is. She's pretty sure he ate some once for a bet - or was it to make Karkat apoplectic? Either way, he succeeded and survived, so there's a good chance this will work. Rose blinks the last vestiges of ink out of her tear ducts and starts stripping Terezi out of her clothes - they're pretty singed and tattered, but even so it seems bad form to get sopor slime on them. Once she has Terezi down to her underthings she checks her for bleeding - thankfully nothing serious - and heaves her supine form to the edge of the recuperacoon. 

Terezi gives a soft groan as Rose slides her in, sopor slopping against the edge a little. Rose takes her own Seer robes off, and once down to her underwear she clambers in after Terezi. The sopor squidges against her skin, a strange mix of extremely thick custard and lime jelly. She slides down next to Terezi. The sopor sucks at her thighs and stomach. Rose is overwhelmed with the need to touch her, to make sure she's okay. Cradling the nape of Terezi's neck to lift her nose and mouth clear of the slime, Rose scoops up a palmful of slime and smoothes it from Terezi's forehead to the nape of her neck. She seems to remember someone - Kanaya? Sollux? Terezi herself? - telling her trolls needed this to sleep. She smoothes handfuls of sopor over Terezi's face and head, gliding with gentle fingers around the base of her horns and over her face. All she can focus on right now is the feeling of Terezi's sopor-slick hair in her fingers, Terezi's skull cradled in her palm, and Terezi's breathing - slower and easier now - against her side. 

She can't really explain why she's doing this, but it feels right. It feels like what Terezi would want. Rose traces the contours of Terezi's face gently. She wants her to be safe...Maybe she does know why she's doing this. _Terezi would laugh at me, if she knew. So much for knowing my own mind_. Once she's done looking after Terezi, Rose can breathe a little easier, though her lungs still feel a little raw and clogged with tar. She lies down against Terezi's side, propped against her shoulder and the rim of the recuperacoon so that her head is free of the sopor, wraps her arm over Terezi's waist, lies her head against Terezi's chest, and closes her eyes. 

*******

She dreams of nothing, only pure, soft blackness. 

*******

A slow tightening of arms around her waist and a humming in her ear slowly pull Rose to wakefulness. She cracks an eyelid. Everything is green. She blinks her eyes open the rest of the way. She turns her head to look down at Terezi, and nearly gets a horn in the eye for her trouble. She smiles down at Terezi, and Terezi grins up at her, her teeth sharp, her red eyes glowing. 

"Hi, Seer," says Terezi, "How does it feel to be an idiot?" 

"Awful," says Rose, and turns to cough some ink into the sopor. It hisses slightly as it touches it. "I can't in good conscience recommend it." She tightens her own hold on Terezi - they are agreeably tangled together, floating there in the slime. "Good thing I had a brilliant Seer of Mind to come save me." 

Terezi hums again, tracing a pattern - it feels like diamonds - on Rose's arm. "Flattery will get you many places," she murmurs, "But don't think I'll come save you a second time." It's a lie, but Rose doesn't feel like calling her on it. She'd rather bask in how warm her heart is right now, and how nice it feels to hold someone like this, and be held in return. 

"I'm just happy you're still alive," Rose says, "Otherwise, who would I complain to?" 

"Someone who actually likes peppermint tea, probably," retorts Terezi. 

"Well, I'll soon change that. And who would I fall asleep on, and listen to when they need to vent about my brother?" 

"Definitely not me," says Terezi primly, fooling precisely no one. "My relationship with Dave Strider is none of your business - " 

" - He's an imbecile," supplies Rose, grinning. 

"- True," cedes Terezi, nodding, her chin stabbing Rose in the chest, "But a good kisser, for all he is emotionally constipated." 

"I have often thought that myself," says Rose. "Now, you were expounding my failures as a confidant?" 

"Oh, you're hopeless," says Terezi gleefully, burrowing further into Rose, "Totally useless. I should sell you to the drones for parts. Also, you are the worst at riddles. The worst!" Rose just strokes Terezi's hair and grins. 

They float for a while. 

"Clearly," says Rose at length, "Your Mind powers are functioning perfectly. You are amazing, I would like to state that for the record. How did you blast me out of there?" 

Terezi shrugs against her. "They wanted you, and they were being needlessly obnoxious about it. I wanted to teach them a lesson. I just saw what I needed to do to get into their minds through yours, I suppose. Squid god brains are just as malleable if you try hard enough!" She grins to herself. 

"When we get out of here, let's go hunt that clown," says Rose, running her hand up and down Terezi's shoulderblade. Bone and muscle shift beneath her fingers as Terezi twists to offer her a particularly razor-sharp smile. 

"Why, Rose," purrs Terezi, "That's the best thing you could say to me." 

"I'd like to see him run from two Seers - though I'm not sure I'll be much help. I still don't understand why my power hasn't been working," says Rose, trying really hard not to pout like a two-year-old. 

"I think the deep gods may have been blocking it." says Terezi. "But I have an idea. I want to spark a confluence. It should help both of us. Come here." Rose is already leaning towards her as Terezi cups the nape of her neck and reels her in until their foreheads touch. 

"I'm not quite sure I follow," murmurs Rose. 

"Try now," Terezi breathes, breath warm against Rose's cheek. She can feel the fizzy spearmint spark of Terezi's power - _I'm even talking like her now_ , thinks Rose, and completely fails to care - gathering against her own temples. She breathes in, breathes out, and releases the Light. At first she's falling into a velvety void, but then turquoise neurons flicker in the darkness, solidifying into Mind symbols in a ring around her, and the Light streams from her in a huge sun pattern, its rays sparking off the spinning Mind discs and winking off their curled hooks. She feels the surge of power then, roaring through her like being caught in the swell of a breaking wave. _Okay, Seer_ , she feels Terezi think warmly, _Go seek_. She turns on the spot, looking at the centre of the sun disc she's hovering in. Then she brings the Light back into herself, gathers it behind her eye sockets, and dives. 

There is no squelching in the dark. It's only when Rose realises that she doesn't smell abyssal ink and menace that she realises she's been smelling them for a long, long time. The horrorterrors are gone, and she can see clearly at last. 

Slowly revelation opens up before her like a flower, peeling futures back for her to see like honey-coloured petals. From each crossroads from where they are now curls a syruppy ribbon of decision; of promise. It's so much brighter, surer, than the scratchy meanderings she'd been taunted by before. 

Rose blinks back to herself, golden possibilities curling warm and sure around her temples. "Ugh," says Terezi, wrinkling her nose, "Your breath smells like calamari with god delusions, and rotting fish, and I think maybe actual death? Seriously, don't do that again." 

The horrorterror's Eldritch whisperings still suck at her, though they are fading even now. Soon they will be just a memory. Rose snorts through her nose and places her hand against Terezi's cheek. Terezi's eyelids flutter closed, and she exhales shakily. "I don't plan to." Rose says simply. 

"Good." murmurs Terezi, drawing in a steadying breath, and placing her hand on the corresponding spot on Rose's cheek. Her claws make the softest of dimples against the skin of Rose's cheekbone. Rose loses track of how long they sit there, up to their collarbones in green slime, their foreheads touching, hands cupping each other's cheeks, fingertips sliding a little in the dried sopor on their faces. She hasn't felt this peaceful in a long time. 

Eventually, though, the grumbling of her stomach reminds her that there are other things that need attending to. Terezi laughs at her and pokes the offending organ. They climb out of the cocoon and take brisk showers, sluicing as much of the sopor off as possible. Rose sniffs her Seer robes before pulling them on again; only the slightest hint of hadal deeps. Terezi at least has a fresh set of clothes. Because she wants to, Rose catches Terezi's hand as she reaches for the door and uses a fingertip to trace a diamond on the back of it. Terezi's answering smile, dawning beautiful across her face, is all the reward she needs. They leave together, the backs of their hands brushing as they walk side by side down the corridor. 

*******

In the kitchen they see everyone, in various states of stress, trying to sit around and look casual. Dave gives them a thumbs up, and Rose gives him the finger. She doesn't need to look to know that Terezi is doing the same. Dave laughs, pleased, and Terezi smirks at Rose. Rose smirks back, showing only slightly fewer teeth. 

Rose walks up to Karkat, Terezi warm at her shoulder, and says, giddy with relief and the tingle of the Light only just fading in her bloodstream: 

"I know what we have to do." 


	2. Chapter 2

Listen on 8tracks [here](http://8tracks.com/kawau/the-light-in-me-will-guide-you-home)

**Tracklist** :

_No Light, No Light_ \- Florence + The Machine  
 _She_ \- Laura Mvula  
 _Thunder_ \- Brooke Fraser  
 _Building a Monster_ \- Skylar Grey  
 _Breaking the Yearlines_ \- Shearwater  
 _What If The Storm Ends pt 1 Lightning Strike_ \- Snow Patrol  
 _Bloodrush_ \- Brooke Fraser  
 _Weight of Living Pt 1 (Albatross)_ \- Bastille  
 _Harbor_ \- Vienna Teng


End file.
